


Smoke and Mirrors

by running_in_circles



Series: Too Good to be True [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Excitement, Frenemies, Friendship, Multi, Nerves, Preparation, formality, world meeting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 01:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2210691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/running_in_circles/pseuds/running_in_circles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2012: The November World Meeting - one of the only world meetings that still held much importance or achieved much. England has a plan he would very much like to carry out. So does someone else, it seems. A bomb is dropped at this world meeting, in more ways than one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sometimes England missed the Middle Ages. Lack of hygiene aside, his duties as a country were as simple as fighting for his monarch, hoisting standards on horseback and doing battle with, amongst others, France. Back then, ‘diplomacy’ hadn’t been an ideal to aspire to.

And as England squashed spare ties and socks over the box files of official papers in his suitcase, he had to wonder if the decision to talk rather than cross swords, sensible as it was, had been a good one. The clock ticked down to midnight. 

He slammed the lid onto his suitcase, too tired to triple-check. If he appeared at the world meeting with a shirt too few, so be it. He kicked the suitcase to one side and collapsed into bed. Granted, the 21st century had memory foam mattresses and that was certainly a plus. But as he groped behind him for the switch and threw the room into darkness, he couldn’t help but compare his old job to his new one. Roaring battle cries and getting splitting headaches from religious feuds was repetitive after a few hundred years, but it had filled him with pride to watch his redcoats send France packing. Even the headaches could be endured with the knowledge it meant that his people were alive and kicking and fighting for what was right – preferably before the rest of Europe’s. 

Now, he offered meagre advice on government legislation, had useless meetings with other nations to discuss affairs that governments had long taken out of their hands and at times like this hoped he’d brought his good pen to conferences (and work up the nerve to talk to India).

His tired eyes twitched in the darkness. The house was silent now; Wales and Scotland had gone back to Cardiff and Edinburgh the day after the hangover faded, almost three weeks ago. The memory of the day stuck in England’s mind, perhaps because he’d embarrassed himself in front of a Westminster official (but mostly because he’d decided to work up the nerve to talk to India). It was probably because of this that the house seemed even quieter than usual.

England laid there, letting the silence press on his ears. Stupid, really, he thought, given that he’d lived alone for the last decade and that his house, older than America, groaned and creaked far too much to really be quiet.

England sighed. His mind seemed to be jammed in a reflective mode, But he had a 6AM plane to catch. And this conference was one of the rare important ones. 

The peculiar fizz of anxiety in his mind must be because of this, he tried to reason.

He turned over and screwed his eyes shut (and tried very hard not to think of another nation who had sometimes spent a night in his old, old house).


	2. Chapter 2

England rolled his small suitcase into the hotel room and collapsed onto the neat bed. He cracked his joints and stretched his arms behind his head until they smarted. He yawned, staring up at the polite white ceiling and letting his mind go blank.

Most of the nations had arrived at the hotel before he had, but that was to be expected. The meeting was in Germany so the European nations had taken their time getting in, their journeys only a few hours at the most. He had seen India on his way upstairs, sitting in the restaurant talking animatedly to Brazil. Studiously ignoring the completely senseless pang he had felt at the sight of her, England had decided that perhaps the best time to talk to her would be in the evening when the meeting would officially kick off.

The November World Meeting was one of the more major events of the year for nations. There were EU meetings and G7 meetings and UK meetings and they all had the same tone – travelling, telling leaders if they had judged their countries’ moods wrong, telling leaders what would work and what didn’t, being ignored by leaders most of the time anyway, more travelling. But this one was different. The November meeting was a chance for the nations of the entire world to group and review the year. A chance to talk without the keen ears of their leaders. It was an event that could very easily blow up, what with all religions and politics and wars stuffed into one place and plenty of people stupid or careless enough to serve as a spark. Perhaps that was why leaders would have scrapped it long ago if not for the protests of the nations. And protest they did, for it was the only time of the year that each and every nation found a way to be civil to one another. Whether it was in the interest of preserving the only semi-enjoyable meeting they had or being able to put aside the disagreements for one week every year, the November meeting was the only time the world learnt how to _just get along for once_.  

England had always thought that it was the paradoxically peaceful nature of the meeting that added to its popularity; nations went along out of determination to keep the meeting peaceful and morbid curiosity in case it didn’t remain that way. They were very human, even if they weren’t really.

England checked his watch. He had about two hours before he would go down and greet the other Europeans, who would have arrived by then and they would be ready for the kick-off speeches and dinner. England yawned again and decided perhaps sleeping was the most productive way of passing time.  He crawled up to the pillow and rolled under it, thanking Germany fervently for his good taste in hotel beds. England felt his eyes drift closed.

A knocking at the door resounded through the room.

Swearing furiously under his breath, England dragged himself to the door opened it irritably.

“Olá, you.”  A woman slightly more tanned than himself stood easily in the doorway, colourful scarf wrapped languidly around a jumper and skirt to match.

England felt a smile stretch across his face despite his best intentions.

“Hello yourself, Portugal. You’re early.”

“I was meeting with Germany’s EU ministers anyway,” she explained, letting herself in as England stood aside, “so I came here afterwards. Good thing too, they seemed to have upped the security massively this year for people flying in.” She plopped down on the bed, kicked her shoes off and drew her legs in.

England remembered the discreet swarm of security at the hotel and hummed in agreement. “Why’re they so paranoid this year?”

Portugal shrugged. “Germany’s hosting, isn’t he. His housekeeping ways are even worse than yours.”

England grinned despite himself again. He went to cabinet at the front of the room. “Tea?”

Portugal raised her hand to decline. “Why don’t we go out? I’m getting sick of hanging around hotels and suits.”

England was tempted. Portugal was one of the few nations he could truly enjoy the company of. But what if India...?

Portugal saw the hesitation on his face. “Did you have something planned?”

“Not really,” he began.

Portugal raised an eyebrow and smirked. “So you do have something planned?”

It wouldn’t do to have Portugal know about his little plan, England thought, not yet. She knew well enough his feelings towards India and knew equally well to leave him alone about it. Even so, he didn’t need her eyes on him tonight if – when he talked to India.

So he tried for another smile and said, “I do actually. I was hoping to find some decent curry in this city. I’m starving, I can’t wait ‘til dinner.”

She wasn’t convinced, not at all, but she went along with it, happy enough to trek out into the frosty air of Dusseldorf to find some mindless entertainment with her friend for an hour or two.


End file.
